. . . directly across the street from a house of ill repute when they witnessed a Protestant Minister lurking about and then ducking into the house.

"Would ye look at that, Darby!" said Pat. "What a shameful disgrace, a Protestant Reverend sinning in a house the likes of that place!" They both shook their heads in disgust and continued their work. A short time later they watched as a Rabbi looked around himself cautiously and then darted
into the house when he was satisfied no one had spied him.

"Did ya see that, Darby?", Pat asked the other in shock and disbelief. "Is nothing holy to those Jewish people? I just can't understand what the world is coming to these days. A man of the cloth indulging himself in sins of the flesh. Tis a shame, I tell ya!"

Not long had passed when they saw a third man, a Catholic Priest, lurking about the house looking around to see if any one was watching and then quietly sneaking in the door. "Oh no, Darby, look!" Said Pat removing his cap, "One o' the poor girls musta died!"

. . . orders three pints of Guinness and sits in the back of the room, drinking a sip out of each one in turn. When he finishes them, he comes back to the bar and orders three more. The bartender approaches and tells
him, "You know, a pint goes flat after I draw it, it would taste better if you bought one at a time."

The Irishman replies, "Well, you see, I have two brothers. One is in America, the other is in Australia, and I'm in Dublin. When we all left home, we promised that we'd drink this way to remember the days we drank together. So I drink one for each o'me brothers and
one for me self." The bartender admits that this is a nice custom, and leaves it there.

The Irishman becomes a regular in the bar, and always drink the same way: He orders three pints and drinks them in turn. One day, he comes in and orders two pints. All the other regulars take notice and fall silent. When he comes back to the bar for the second round,
the bartender says, "I don't want to intrude on your grief, but I wanted to offer my condolences on your loss."

The Irishman looks quite puzzled for a moment, then a light dawns and he laughs. "Oh, no, everybody's just fine," He explains, "it's just that me wife had us join that Baptist Church and I had to quit drinking. Hasn't affected me brothers though."

They all attend an interview. The laboratory manager comes out of his office with three jar and he gives one to each candidate. He informs them that in each jar is a live spider. He asks them to take the jar home informing them that whoever has the most comprehensive
observation results will be given the job and a starting salary of $60,000.

The exhausted and weary looking candidates returned the following morning. Suddenly the managers door swings open and he shouts in the English man. "Well, what have you found out about your spider," asked the manager.

"Well it has eight legs, a hairy body and its runs in all different directions." Replied the Englishman.

"Is that all you have to report?" asks the manager.

"Err ... err ... yes" replied the English man. "

"OK, said the manager, "please take a seat outside and send in the Scottish man."

The Scottish was also asked what he had found out about his spider. "Well it has eight legs, a brown body with lots of small hairs, it is only able to crawl three inches up the jar before falling back and the longest it stays still is five minutes."

"Very good," said the manager, "so far you have the job but I do have one more candidate to see, so could you please take a seat outside and send in the Irishman."

The Irishman was also asked what he had found out about his spider. "Watch this said the Irishman, who took the lid on off the jar and placed the spider on the managers desk. he said to the spider COME HERE!, the spider began walking towards him and he said STOP! and
the spider stopped. Again the Irishman placed the spider back and said COME HERE! at which point the spider again began walking towards him, he again said STOP! and again the spider stopped."

"That's fantastic," said the manager fantastic, "this is worth a fortune, we will be rich !!!!."

The Irishman then said "eh if you think that's good wait for this." He picked up the spider placed it back and pulled all its legs off and then said to the spider "COME HERE!" the spider didn't move ........ "COME HERE!" Yelled the Irishman, but still the spider
didn't move. The Irishman then screamed "COME HERE!!!" but still the spider didn't move.

The Irishman then proudly stood back and said to the manager "What do you think of that then!"

"Think what about what?" said the manager confused as to what he had proved.

"Well" said the Irishman, "it proves that when you pull a spiders legs off ..... they go deaf."

. . . takes them to a table and proceeds to drink them taking his time. He repeats this two times and then leaves the pub.

A few nights later he returns to the pub, orders three pints of Guinness, takes them to a table and drinks them taking his time. He repeats this two times and leaves the pub. He continues this for several weeks. Soon the entire town is talking about the
"Three Pint Man."

Finally, one day the pub owner on behalf of the entire town broaches the subject to the man. "I don't mean to pry, but folks are quite curious why you order three pints each time you come in ."

The man replied, "I have two brothers - one in America and one in Australia. When we parted ways we all promised that each time we had a drink, we would order an extra two pints as a way of keeping up with each other."

The pub owner and the entire town thought this was wonderful and were pleased that the brothers meant so much to each other. "The Three Pint Man" became a celebrity not only to the town but to the surrounding area.

One day the man came into the pub and orders only two pints of Guinness. The pub owner poured them with a heavy heart knowing in his soul that something dreadful must have happened. The news spreads around town and people are offering prays for the "Three
Pint Man."

This went on for a few weeks and the pub owner says to the man, "I want to offer our condolences due to death of your brother. We are all heart broken. You know the two pints and all."

The man ponders this for a few minutes and replies, "You will be glad to hear that my brothers are alive and well. It's just that I, meself, have decided to give up Guinness for Lent."

... celebrating Ireland's football victory. Mick, the bartender, says "You'll not be drinking any more tonight, Paddy"

Paddy replies "OK Mick, I'll be on me way then."

Paddy spins around on his stool and steps off. He falls flat on his face.

"Shoite" he says and pulls himself up by the stool and dusts himself off. He takes a step towards the door and falls flat on his face. "Shoite, Shoite!" He looks to the doorway and thinks to himself that if he can just get to the door and some fresh air he'll be fine.
He belly crawls to the door and shimmies up to the door frame. He sticks his head outside and takes a deep breath of fresh air, feels much better and takes a step out onto the sidewalk. He falls flat on his face.

"Bi'Jesus... I'm tanked," he says. He can see his house just a few doors down, and crawls to the door and shimmies up the door frame, opens the door and shimmies inside. He takes a look up the stairs and says "No way!"

He crawls up the stairs to his bedroom door and says "If i can just make it to me bed." He takes a step into the room and falls flat on his face. He says "to hell with it" and falls into bed.

The next morning, his wife, Jess, comes into the room carrying a cup of coffee and says, "Get up Paddy. Did you have a bit to drink last night?".